Kilmer House

In recognition of the 100th anniversary of the passing of Johnson & Johnson founder Robert Wood Johnson in 1910, this is one of several posts looking at the earliest years of Johnson & Johnson, Robert Wood Johnson as our first president, and the Company’s first senior management transition.

It’s 1887 and Johnson & Johnson has grown in just one year from 14 employees in one building to 125 employees in several buildings.  Our original building from 1886, the four-story former wallpaper factory, is now the plaster mill, filled with machinery designed by founder James Wood Johnson to mass produce medicated plasters.  Now, for the first time, we have an opportunity to see what it looked like inside that building. Let’s take a short walk through.

Artist’s Rendition of the First Johnson & Johnson Building from 1886

So how can we go back to 1887 and see inside our first building?  We can do that because we’re fortunate to have in our archives the second article ever written about Johnson & Johnson.  (In case you’re wondering, the first article was a single paragraph in the March 3rd, 1886 edition of The New Brunswick Times, announcing that the three Johnson brothers had rented a building and would soon start operations.)

The Second Article Written About Johnson & Johnson, from 1887

In April of 1887, a publication called The Detroit Pharmaceutical Era did an article on the manufacture of medicinal plasters (another name for medicated plasters, the popular medical product of the day).  Since the Johnson brothers changed the way in which those products were made and improved their efficacy, the article focused on how Johnson & Johnson manufactured them.

A Medicated Plaster

Medicated, or medicinal plasters delivered medicine directly through the skin.  They were made of rubber infused with a medication – commonly to generate heat or pain relief – and they were sticky on one side.  You peeled off the backing and stuck the plaster, or as big a piece of the plaster as you needed, directly over the part of the body needing the medication, and removed it when you were done. 

The Johnson & Johnson buildings in 1887.  Our first building, the former Janeway and Carpender wallpaper factory, is the building on the left.

Here’s a detailed eyewitness description of Johnson & Johnson in 1887, from the writer at The Detroit Pharmaceutical Era who came here to do the article:

“The factories of the house of Johnson & Johnson stand back from the depot of the Pennsylvania Railroad at New Brunswick, N.J. about 150 feet.  They are large and extensive, including, as they do, three handsome brick buildings and covering an area of 8,00 square feet, or about two acres of land.  In the neighborhood of 35,000 square feet of flooring are used in the manufacture of all the products of the firm…The main building, which is devoted entirely to the manufacture of the rubber plasters, is of brick and is four stories high.  In its basement is a 200-horse power engine which furnishes power for all three of the buildings.  Back of the main edifice is a smaller one, devoted exclusively to the manufacture of mustard plasters, while on its side is still another brick building five stories in height, devoted to the manufacture of the numerous other pharmaceutical preparations turned out by the house.”   [Detroit Pharmaceutical Era, “The Manufacture of Medicinal Plasters, April, 1887] 

The products made in the five story building would have included sterile surgical dressings, sterile sutures, and adhesive tapes.   If anyone’s wondering what that basement engine room might have looked like, it probably looked a lot like this:

From our archives, photo showing the Engine Room, Old Mill, from 1894.

Here’s an employee in the drying room in our first building, hanging the flattened sheets of rubber that would be used to make medicinal plasters. 

According to the article, the drying room was directly over the boiler room, and the temperature of the drying room was never allowed to fall below 100 degrees.  Despite the heat, the drying process took a full week.  Also interesting is the fact that the employees in the illustrations are depicted wearing hats.  None of our plaster mill employees from the 1800s photographed in our archives are wearing hats in the photos; perhaps the illustrator (or the employees) felt that a hat would be more formal and proper for the important occasion of being depicted in an illustration for an article in 1887.  

Here’s an illustration of the plaster mixing and spreading room in our original building.  The machinery was designed by Company founder James Wood Johnson, who was a skilled and creative engineer.  His machinery improved the methods of mass producing medicated plasters. 

Plaster Mixing and Spreading Room, 1887, from the original Johnson & Johnson building. 

Here’s another corner of our first building, with an automatic perforating machine, for the manufacture of porous plasters — like the Belladonna Plaster shown in this post.  (Porous plasters got their name from the rows of small round holes, or perforations, in them.)  Interestingly enough, James Wood Johnson didn’t invent this complex machine.  So who did?  Here’s what The Detroit Pharmaceutical Era said:  “The machine is a complicated one that works automatically, and is the invention of Mr. R. W. Johnson.” 

The Automatic Perforating Machine, in our original building

The article described the manufacturing process in detail, and the writer was clearly impressed by the number and variety of products the new company manufactured, because he took an entire paragraph to list them.  The writer wrapped up with an overall appreciation of the entire medicated plaster industry.

“In the entire output of the country fully 160,000 pounds or 80 tons of rubber is used yearly; and when it is considered how small the quantity of rubber material necessary for a single plaster of almost infinitesimal thickness, the full extent of the enormous number made yearly and the magnitude of the industry can be appreciated.”  [Detroit Pharmaceutical Era, “The Manufacture of Medicinal Plasters, April, 1887] 

Readers of Kilmer House can certainly appreciate the opportunity to see inside our first-ever 1886 building in 1887, just a year after Johnson & Johnson started, and the glimpse of some of our early innovation in improving one of the most popular health care products of almost 125 years ago.

With Mother’s Day coming up in the U.S. on May 9th, Kilmer House would like to salute all of the Moms throughout our history and in our present.  This is the first in a series of three Mother’s Day posts that talk about some of our history that is connected to mothers.  One of the ways Johnson & Johnson supported mothers starting in the 1890s was through the manufacture of maternity kits, designed to insure safe childbirth for the mother and baby.

Today, there are countless books, websites, online communities and classes for expectant parents to prepare them for the birth of a child.  And in most areas of the world, childbirth occurs in a hospital with teams of trained medical professionals to ensure that the experience is routine and successful for the mother and the baby.  A hundred and twenty years ago, the experience of childbirth was very different.

In those days, most babies were born at home.  In the year 1900, only five percent of women gave birth in hospitals. The doctor or midwife — but more usually the expectant mother and the family – were expected to gather and provide any supplies that were needed for the event.  This was a practice that Johnson & Johnson was determined to change because, as our First Aid Manual stated, “The patient does not always know what is required for the maintenance of surgical cleanliness, and this is particularly true of young women, pregnant for the first time…”  [A Handbook of First Aid, Johnson & Johnson, New Brunswick, N.J., U.S.A., 1903, p. 29]

Mother and children, 1917, from our archives

There was very little information for expectant parents, and they usually got it from family members of members of the community.  Needless to say, much of that information was unscientific and inexact.  Even more worrisome was the high incidence of what used to be called “childbed fever”– infection caused by the same germs that caused surgical infections.

So how does that tie in with Johnson & Johnson?  The founders of Johnson & Johnson (although they were fathers, not mothers) had families, and the Company had many women employees, so they were all very aware of the need for products that specifically addressed improving the health of new mothers.  So in the 1890s, working with prominent obstetricians, Johnson & Johnson came out with maternity kits.  These were large kits containing professional sterile medical supplies and antiseptic soaps — everything a doctor would need to ensure a safe and healthy birth for a mother and child.  The kits – Dr. Simpson’s Maternity Packet and, later, Dr. Cooke’s Maternity Outfit, were named after the doctors who worked with Johnson & Johnson on the kits.  Dr. Cooke was especially well-respected:  he was a professor of obstetrics and an obstetric surgeon in New York, and the author of many articles and books in his field.   The Johnson & Johnson maternity kits could be purchased either through retail drug stores or surgical supply dealers.

Dr. Simpson’s Maternity Packet

Dr. Simpson’s Maternity Packet contained a disposable obstetric sheet, sterile cotton sheeting, sealed aseptic gauze, sterile ligatures, and sponges, a small package of antiseptic JOHNSON’S® Baby Powder, petroleum jelly, antiseptic surgeon’s soap for sterilizing the doctor’s hands, instruments and anything else that needed to be germ free, a washcloth, materials for washing the infant’s eyes, a package of safety pins and a chart for use in keeping birth records.

Illustration of Dr. Cooke’s Maternity Packet

Dr. Cooke’s packet was even larger.  In addition to greater quantities of the antiseptic supplies in Dr. Simpson’s kit, Dr. Cooke’s kit also contained  24 sanitary pads (women soon began writing to Johnson & Johnson asking for them as a separate product, giving us one of our oldest consumer businesses), a nail brush (for the doctor to use in scrubbing his hands), alcohol, Synol Soap (a disinfectant soap), olive oil, boric acid solution for cleaning the infant’s eyes, sterile surgical tape, and antiseptic tablets used to make solutions to sterilize instruments.   These kits were welcomed by obstetricians, druggists and parents, to the extent that druggists advertised that they carried them to get traffic into their pharmacies.

An idea for a drugstore window sign by a retail druggist in Madison Wisconsin, submitted to THE RED CROSS MESSENGER in 1920.  Note that fathers-to-be were listed as having responsibility for gathering supplies for childbirth.

In 1902, Johnson & Johnson also published “Hygiene in Maternity,” a booklet for expectant mothers covering all aspects of pregnancy, diet, delivery and how to care for a newborn baby.  The booklets were small in size so that women could carry them in a pocket or purse, and they provided real health information to expectant mothers, instead of the traditional combination of urban legends, folk remedies and proverbs that expectant and new mothers had to navigate 100 years ago.  

Today, we talk about putting science in the service of the people who use our many products.  These maternity kits and the information booklets did exactly that over 100 years ago, and greatly helped women who were becoming mothers.

Here’s a quick quiz.  From the description of this Johnson & Johnson Family of Companies product, would the consumer using it be more likely to be listening to music on an MP3 player, or cranking up one of those old fashioned gramophones?  The product is a liquid bandage that’s applied with an applicator.  It forms a transparent, waterproof coating that keeps small wounds covered while they heal, and it won’t wash off with soap and water. 

Any guesses?  Here’s the answer:  get that gramophone out of the museum, because the product was Cotolia Liquid Court Plaster and, 100 years ago, it was the BAND-AID® Brand SINGLE STEP^TM  Liquid Bandage of its day.

Strange, but true:  we made a liquid bandage 100 years ago.

Cotolia Liquid Court Plasters made their first appearance in our price lists in 1905, sixteen years before the invention of BAND-AID® Brand Adhesive Bandages.  Here’s what a 1907 edition of RED CROSS NOTES, our publication for doctors and surgeons, said about Cotolia.   

“It forms a perfectly flexible coating upon the skin, which coating is transparent and waterproof.  The preparation contains an antiseptic, and therefore assists in healing the cuts, scratches and abrasions.  The bottles containing Cotolia are perfectly sealed to prevent evaporation, and instead of the ordinary brushes for the application of such plaster, Cotolia is put up with a glass spatula by which it is easily applied to the skin…”  [RED CROSS NOTES, Johnson & Johnson, Series V, No. 12, 1907, p. 282.]

Illustration showing Cotolia Liquid Court Plaster bottle and applicator

Cotolia Liquid Court Plaster came in glass bottles sealed with a cork, packaged inside a round aluminum tin for protection.  The glass applicator, which was deemed superior to the brushes used in competitor’s liquid court plasters, was attached to the inside end of the cork.

So what was a court plaster, anyway, and how did we come to make a liquid bandage around 100 years before we made a, well…liquid bandage?   Johnson & Johnson had been making court plasters since 1887.  They were small pieces of fabric with an adhesive on one side that were used to cover small blemishes, cuts or abrasions. 

Court plasters owe their odd name to their origin in the royal courts of Europe, where they started out as a fashion item called beauty spots.  They were often made of silk or taffeta and came in a variety of colors.  At some point in their history, someone discovered that they could be used to hide blemishes or small cuts, and they became a popular consumer product, a cousin to medicated plasters.  They were made with more glamorous materials because, unlike a medicated plaster which was generally worn on an area covered by clothing, court plasters were worn on visible areas such as the hands.  Johnson & Johnson made court plasters out of taffeta, like this one:

Black Taffeta Court Plaster Package

And we made court plasters with arnica, which was derived from a plant and used topically to treat aches, pains and inflammation from bruises and sprains. 

Arnica Court Plaster:  it was waterproof!

Liquid court plasters were designed to provide the same protection, but invisibly, and they were great for areas in which it was hard to get a court plaster to stay, such as hands and fingers.  Johnson & Johnson wasn’t the only company to make a liquid court plaster.  Here’s a 1910 ad for Carpenter’s Water-Proof Liquid Court Plaster, for example.   However, as Johnson & Johnson did with all of its products, it improved the safety, ingredients, method of working and method of delivery for Cotolia Liquid Court Plasters.  

Today, the liquid court plasters of 100 years ago are largely forgotten, but their influence lives on: whenever you watch a film or wear a synthetic material, you owe an accidental debt to these forgotten products, because they inadvertently led to two inventions that would help shape the 20th century:  celluloid and rayon.  This site tells the story of how two scientists, one in Albany, New York and the other in Lyons, France, accidentally spilled bottles of liquid court plaster when trying to use it as a liquid bandage, and got the inspirational ideas that led to synthetic fabrics and celluloid film.  

So, it’s strange, but true.  One hundred years before BAND-AID® Brand SINGLE STEP^TM  Liquid Bandage, we made a liquid bandage.  And even though Cotolia Liquid Court Plaster and its competitors are long forgotten — except by readers of this blog — their influence is felt every day in the innovations they caused that changed modern life.

Regular readers of Kilmer House have read about the aseptic, or sterile conditions that Johnson & Johnson maintained over 100 years ago in order to manufacture the first mass produced sterile surgical dressings and sterile sutures.  So I thought it would be interesting to post some of the rules for our Aseptic Department from 1897:  112 years ago.

You Can’t Do That!  A list of what not to do from 1897

Don’t allow a dressing to touch your person or clothing, unprepared tables, tools or apparatus.
Don’t touch any other person.
Don’t touch a dressing with hands that are not surgically clean.
Don’t, while handling dressings, touch your hands to your clothing, face, hair, eyes or mouth.
Don’t allow perspiration to drop on tables or dressings [Remember, this was before air conditioning!]
Don’t cough or sneeze over the dressings or tables.
Don’t carry or use a pocket handkerchief.
Don’t put anything in your mouth.
Don’t wear flowers, ornaments, jewelry or rings. [In case you’re wondering about this rule, many or most of the Aseptic Department employees were women.]
Don’t pick up any dressing or thing that has fallen to the floor.
Don’t use anything that has fallen to the floor without sterilizing it.
Don’t fail to have everything surgically clean before you use it.
Don’t touch anything that has not been made sterile without rewashing the hands.
Don’t be afraid to wash your hands often; they will not wash away.
Don’t allow persons who have not prepared themselves to touch a dressing or anything used in their preparation.
Don’t go out of the room and come back again without as thoroughly rewashing as when you first entered.
Don’t be afraid to be particular about everything you do or touch.
Don’t handle anything when it is not necessary to do so. 

[Aseptic Dressings, Rules and Suggestions, Johnson & Johnson, late 1800s]

The Aseptic Department in 1903.  Many of the employees in this most crucial and exacting department were women.  In 1908, this included Nora H——, the Aseptic Department supervisor.

One of the Sterilizers, 1897

Here’s a 1908 description of the Company’s aseptic manufacturing facilities.  The antiseptic laboratory contained a steam sterilizer, a sterilization method pioneered by Johnson & Johnson.   It was connected with the aseptic finishing room which, according to scientific director Fred Kilmer (who oversaw the creation of these rooms) was “…the outcome of years of study in the preparation of surgical material.”  [RED CROSS NOTES, Series VI, No. 6, New Brunswick, NJ  1908, p. 127]  Plate glass (which could easily be kept germ free) formed the partitions for this room.  The floor was made from hard wood, and the walls and woodwork were covered in smooth white enamel, as was the metal ceiling.  The tables were enameled metal with glass tops so they could be disinfected. 

A corner of the Aseptic Department – you can see the glass topped enamel table

Here’s a further description:

“The walls and ceiling are glass smooth.  The floors are filled and polished.  There are no closets or shelving, no cracks or crevices to harbor dust or dirt.  The furniture consists of glass-topped tables on iron frames, which allow effectual and easy cleaning.  Everything, whatsoever may be its nature or history, outside of this room, is considered as infected (though in fact it may be free from germ life); it is, therefore, disinfected before being taken into the room.  The entrance to this room is through an anteroom, which is a disinfecting station of the highest type.  Through this quarantine all persons and things pass before entering the aseptic room.  The inanimate objects pass through the sterilizer elsewhere described.  The operatives undergo a vigorous personal cleansing and change of clothing.”  [Asepsis Secundum Artem, Johnson & Johnson, New Brunswick, NJ, 1897, pp. 6-7] 

“Materials pass in and out of this room through a locking system that at once keeps out all dust and infection.  The air of the room is filtered through cotton under pressure.  Thus there is formed a perfect protective against dust and infection from without.  The room is without apparatus or furniture, except for the necessary bowls for hand washing and for the care of washable uniforms, and white glass tables resting on enameled iron…”  [RED CROSS NOTES, Series VI, No. 6, New Brunswick, NJ  1908, p. 127] 

Aseptic Department Sinks

Aseptic Department employees had to wash their hands, arms and faces with antibacterial soap, and change into sterilized uniforms and caps before starting work.  Employees from other departments and messengers were not allowed into the aseptic room, and visitors were only admitted by special permission of the office (which meant, most likely, that you had to gather up your courage and get your request okayed by Company founder Robert Wood Johnson), and only when under the direct supervision of the nurse in charge of the room.  Visitors couldn’t “mingle with the operatives,” or employees, in the room and they weren’t allowed to touch anything.  After each day’s work had concluded, all dressing materials and finished dressings were put away and a thorough cleaning was done.  Clothing and other smaller items were sterilized in the big steam sterilizer.  Tables, floors and other big things were dusted with a wet cloth, washed with antiseptic solution and then the entire room was closed and fumigated with sulfur and steam.

List of training course work and reading materials for Aseptic Department employees, 1897

So if you just followed all of those rules, you’d be all set to work in the Aseptic Department, right?  Wrong.  Employees involved in the making of the Company’s surgical dressings had to successfully pass a training course that included studying academic medical and scientific texts and reference books, answering questions and conducting experiments that educated them about the importance of preparing sterile surgical materials, the nature of the materials used in dressings and their preparation, how the dressings were used in surgery, how bacteria grew and multiplied, infection and disinfection, sterilization and aseptic techniques in the preparation of surgical dressings, and more.  Fred Kilmer noted that the aseptic rooms were at all times under the direct supervision of graduate surgical nurses, and employees had to scrub in like modern surgeons every time they entered the aseptic room. 

Aseptic Dressing Package Seal Signed by one of the Graduate Nurses, Elizabeth W——.

Illustration of Aseptic Room employee washing hands from 1897 Asepsis Secundum Artem (“According to the Art of Asepsis.”)

This detailed training and the Company’s strict requirements for manufacturing sterile dressings and sutures were in place at a time when many surgeons were still operating in their germ-covered street clothes, and Johnson & Johnson was rightly proud of its aseptic program, having pioneered these early clean room techniques. 

The reason that Johnson & Johnson gave for taking such painstaking steps was that the dressings had to be perfect because lives depended on them, a responsibility the Aseptic Department employees took very seriously.  As Fred Kilmer wrote in 1897, “The importance of the surgical dressing, the nature of its requirements, call for the greatest care.”  [Asepsis Secundum Artem, Johnson & Johnson, New Brunswick, NJ, 1897, p 16] 

You can still see one of the legacies of the Aseptic Department today, in the light, open design of buildings and interior spaces in the Johnson & Johnson Family of Companies throughout the world.  The emphasis on bright white clean surfaces was absorbed by the future General Robert Wood Johnson and incorporated into our building designs worldwide…a very old tradition that we still follow to this day, over a hundred years later.

Then:  white enamel and walls with lots of light…

Now:  white buildings with lots of light